PHOTOGRAPHS.

THE desire to see one's face on paper is almost as pardonable a bit of vanity as the desire to see one's writings in print, and it is much more easily gratified. To be sure, it is not every one that, Narcissus-like, can fall so deeply in love with his own likeness as to be wasted away by the passion; but we all find a certain pleasure in gazing upon ourselves in miniature, and we all, sooner or later, seek to gratify our wish. To the ordinary mortal there is very little choice between the photographer's chair and the dentist's, and the truth of this fact is stamped upon nine out of ten photographs, the sitters for which were all horribly conscious that they were "being taken." The expression varies. Some have evidently tried to follow the artist's advice to "look pleasant," and they inevitably do themselves sad injustice. A savage expression or an unhappy one calls for some respect, but the "pleasant" expression is always distressing. In a picture a smile suggests idiocy.

But it is by no means an easy thing to sit naturally and becomingly for one's likeness. When the photographer has arranged you to his satisfaction, and your head is pushed up against the iron rest, and you are trying to look interested in a nail on the wall, when all the while you feel as constrained as possible, the word is uttered and the monster eye is about to glare; and just then, of a sudden, you wonder if you are opening your eyes wide enough. Every one likes to have justice done to his eyes, and so you lift your eyelids a little, and when the "proof" comes out, those two very expressive features are indeed flatteringly large, but distended to a degree not pleasant to contemplate. And likewise with the mouth, which is often drawn down about the corners in the attempt to convey a firm and decided expression. In fact, the ear is about the only feature that preserves its normal state when exposed to the camera's awful gaze.

And after the trying ordeal is over, and the "pictures in little" are ready to be scattered among friends, how very unsatisfactory they prove! From the young lady, who bestows her photograph with the remark "Are n't they perfectly awful?" to the acquaintances who agree with her for the nonce, but secretly decide that the picture "flatters dreadfully," there seems to be no one really contented. One expects, of course, to have his pictures criticised, but such criticism is often a delicate matter, and requires some tact, - more tact, at least, than was shown by the man who, on seeing the photograph of a friend, then in his presence, almost choked with laughter, and finally added, "But it looks just like you, though."

In spite, however, of all its drawbacks, the photographic art gives a deal of pleasure to man-kind. Not to speak of the character-study presented by every album, we can gratify ourselves with the sight of distant friends without the intervention of spirits; and in their "photos" they present themselves in a constant state of imperturbable good-nature and equanimity.

G.